Paquin
by jane0904
Summary: Next in the Mal/Freya 'verse. Serenity lands on Paquin to do a job, only things don't go smoothly although, when do they? NOW COMPLETE, but with an NC17 epilogue to follow that continues the story into another tale.
1. Chapter 1

Serenity landed on Paquin just around dusk, notifying their contact that they had arrived.

"Sorry, Mal, but you're gonna have to wait 'til tomorrow. You made better time than we thought, and Crandall ain't here yet. Should arrive early a.m."

Mal shrugged. "No problem." He looked into the screen. "Anything happening around here we need to know about?"

Halvorsen shook his head. "Nope. Been dead quiet for a while."

"Shiny. Well, let me know when he's due, and I'll roll out the welcome mat."

"You being facetious?" Halvorsen asked, looking at Mal from under his big, bushy blonde eyebrows.

"Me? Would I do such a thing?"

"Yeah."

Mal laughed. "I just don't exude that allure of mystery any longer, do I?"

"Can't honestly say you ever did. And tell Freya next time she's in town to come see us. Hannah and the kids wanna say hi. And we still ain't seen that little'un of yours."

"You know, we could always drop by now. Bring the shuttle."

Halvorsen's face broke into a full grin. "Now, that is a thought. When d'you think you could get here?"

Mal glanced at the shipboard chronometer. "An hour?"

"Shiny. Hannah'll get some food going."

"Food? As in the real thing?"

"Sure is."

"You might get the rest of the crew descending on you if you say that too loudly."

"Don't mind if we do, but maybe another time, okay?"

Mal smiled. Since the war Halvorsen had always shied away from big groups, and his wife hadn't managed to change the pattern. "Okay. Be setting down on your porch in a little while."

"See you then."

Halvorsen signed off and Mal sat back.

"We going somewhere?" Freya asked from the doorway to the bridge.

"Visiting."

She walked up behind him and leaned down, putting her arms around his shoulders. "It'll be good to see Hannah. We've not managed to catch up since Mabel was born."

"Well, they want to see Ethan too, so get him together and meet me in the shuttle." He stood up, taking her into his embrace. "Told you it'd just be you and me once in a while."

"And Ethan. And Hannah and her family."

"Ain't my fault you introduced them."

"I don't know," she said, rubbing herself against him just a little. "Spending time around a newborn. Is this likely to get you even more broody than you were?"

"That'd be difficult." He reached down and kissed her gently. "Come on. Be good for you to get off this boat for a few hours."

She smiled. "Better get going, then." She slid from him and walked to the doorway. "Might want to wait a minute before you go tell the others." She glanced at his crotch and smiled.

He looked down. Damn, but that woman always did this to him, he considered.

--

"How long will you be gone, sir?" Zoe asked, stirring the stew she was cooking.

"Few hours. Not more. Be back before morning." He looked down into the saucepan, the food an unappetising greyish colour. "Should it look like that?"

"Yes."

"Oh."

"Don't see why we can't come," Hank said, sitting at the table.

Mal turned to look at him. "Because."

"Is that an answer?"

"I seem to recall you using that before," Zoe pointed out. "And that ended up with you having to shoot a Fed."

Mal remembered that day, striding back on board Serenity, seeing Dobson with his hand around River's neck … "Had to kill that man twice."

"So is it a good idea to use that reason again?" Hank prompted.

"Look, it'll be a few hours. You all come, it could be days. Just make do with the fact that we're dropping by Lazarus in a while."

Hank muttered and looked down at his hands. "Not yet."

Mal stared at his first mate. "Can't you keep your … whatever he is … under control?"

"Not so far, sir."

"The sooner you two get married, the better." He strode out, adding over his shoulder, "Let the others know, if they ask."

Zoe continued to stir the stew, but glanced at Hank. He normally would have made some comment when Mal mentioned marriage, and it threw her a little when he didn't. "You okay?" she asked.

He looked up, and for a moment she saw something in his eyes that she didn't recognise. Then it was Hank again. He smiled. "Sure. Just thinking, with Mal and Freya gone, there's all the more food for us."

"Smells like something died in here," Jayne said, stomping down into the galley.

"It's dinner," Zoe said. "And it isn't that bad."

"Sure it is. You can't cook to save your life."

"She cooks better'n you," Hank pointed out.

"Thank you," Zoe said. "Although since you're no better than Jayne, I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not."

"Not if it's meat. If it's meat I'm your man." Jayne scratched his chest and fragments of dust filtered through the air.

"You're filthy," Hank said. "And I mean that as in covered in dirt and … is that rust?"

Jayne wiped ineffectually at his T-shirt. "Damn it, yeah."

"What have you been doing?"

"Aw, setting up those lights for River." He fell into one of the chairs. "Damn things blew the fuse first time, so had to reroute the cables."

"Was that the noise I could hear? Like big mice?"

Jayne glared at the pilot. "Had to drill through the bulkhead, if'n that's what you mean."

"I don't think Mal would like you making holes in things," Zoe put in.

"River said she told him what we were gonna do."

"And you believed her?"

Jayne looked at her aghast. "You mean he ain't …" He glanced around. "He didn't hear, did he?"

"He's gone off with Freya to see Halvorsen," Hank explained. "I think you're safe. For the moment."

"Good." A sly grin appeared on his face. "You sure they weren't just heading off for some sexing? Getting away from us so they could be loud as they like?"

"They took Ethan."

"So?" He lifted his feet onto the chair next to him. "'Sides, why only them?"

"Because Hannah's her friend and Halvorsen's his." Zoe tasted the concoction. Only her normally impassive face stopped her grimacing. Quickly she added in a handful of dried herbs. As an afterthought she poured in some more of the meat flavouring.

"Yeah, but we know 'em too."

"Jayne, they've gone on their own." Another taste and she knew it wasn't helping. Oh well.

"Fine by me." Jayne stretched hugely. "When's food?"

"I thought you said it smelled like something's died?" Hank asked.

"Don't mean I ain't gonna eat it. Got a hunger on me so bad, I could eat you."

"No, please," Hank said, making shooing motions. "Not that I don't appreciate the offer, but I'm spoken for." He ducked the metal cup Jayne threw at his head.

--

Hank watched the shuttle come in to land on the port bow, the docking clamps engaging and pulling the small craft in to lock. Probably Freya at the controls, he considered. Mal's landings in a shuttle still tended to leave something to be desired.

He'd been sitting outside for a while, just looking at the stars. Zoe had fallen asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, but he didn't mind. They hadn't made love since Wayborn – she was too mindful of the hurts he still carried – but for once he didn't resent it. Not because he didn't want to, but for other, more personal reasons.

Instead he lay on his side and watched her sleeping. Then his eyes travelled to her belly. Carefully, so as not to wake her, he put his hand under the sheet and laid it on her stomach. Maybe he was imagining it, but … there was a bulge. Where her body was usually so lean, so toned, there was a firmness inside, and he could almost cup it with his palm.

He'd got up quietly, pulled on his shirt and pants, carried his boots up the ladder, and was now outside, wondering what the hell he was going to do.

A figure walked out of the cargo bay. "Saw you from the shuttle. Looked like you might need the company."

"I didn't think you'd be back yet," Hank said, watching Mal cross the ground towards him.

"Frey was a mite concerned. One of Halvie's kids ain't too well, and she was worried about Ethan catching anything."

"Only Freya?"

Mal sat down on the rock next to his pilot. "We stayed for a while, but I could see she was getting anxious, so … okay, well, yeah, so was I." He smiled in the darkness. "He's my son, Hank. Don't want him even catching a sniffle if I can help it. And, if truth be told, I'd had enough of them both sitting there discussing when kids walk and talk."

"Frey thinking Ethan should be doing both?"

"She keeps saying he's over eight months old. Bethany was talking by now. Not making much sense, but at least she called Simon Dada."

"Actually, she called you that."

Mal grinned. "You know, I'd'a paid to have a capture of the look on the doc's face when she did that."

Hank laughed. "I swear he thinks you coached her."

"Wish I could lay claim to that notion," Mal said, chuckling.

"But Frey's worried?"

"Not no more. Hannah put her mind at ease, telling her how Kyle didn't say his first words 'til he was almost a year, and now they can't shut him up."

"And the walking?"

Mal's face softened. "That won't be long. He's already trying, and …" He glanced at Serenity. "My son, Hank. Still can't believe it sometimes."

"Son." The word came out on a sigh.

"Yeah. And yours'll be along before you know it."

"I know." There was a long silence, and Mal began to think his presence wasn't wanted, but Hank spoke again. "I could feel him, Mal. My son. Inside her. Such a small thing, but …"

"Your own?"

"Yeah."

"That why you're out here?"

"You mean, am I running away?" Hank nodded. "Yeah."

"How come?"

Hank dropped his head. "I was scared. What had happened on Wayborn, what could've happened … and I wasn't …" He couldn't continue.

"Wasn't your fault." Mal looked at the dark bulk of his ship. "Some things can't be helped, Hank. You didn't go looking for trouble."

"Still found me." He resisted the urge to scratch the healing scabs on his chest. "How do you do it?" he asked softly, his voice carrying easily in the night air. "Keep it together? Make having a family look so easy?"

Mal stared at him in surprise. "You think I …"

"I had no idea how hard it was gonna be. And he ain't even born yet."

"You thought it'd be easy?" Mal exhaled noisily. "Hank, when I was ten years old, I caught something. Don't know what it was, just got ill. Right as rain one day, the next I couldn't even get out of bed. Hot and cold at the same time, sweating, shivering, throwing up and … well, you can imagine the rest of it."

Hank nodded. "Had some of that myself a couple of times."

"Only I didn't get better. My momma fed me beef tea, stuff like that, but I couldn't keep it down. She never said, never told me I was really sick, only … the Preacher came."

Hank stiffened a little. "A Shepherd?"

"She thought I didn't know. But I could see through the crack in the door. He was praying, his Bible in his hand, and she was down on her knees, holding tight to the cross at her throat."

The pilot swallowed. "It was that bad?"

"That bad."

"Didn't she call a doctor?"

"Shadow was … well, we didn't have much in the way of hospitals, and our doctor had left a while back. There wasn't anyone to come see to me."

"What did she do?"

"She just kept changing the bedclothes, drying me down, telling me I was gonna be fine, when all along she must've been thinking I was gonna die." He paused a moment. "I can't even begin to know what she was feeling. The pain. The anguish. The fear."

"Mal, I didn't know …"

"No reason for you to. Don't think I've ever told anyone. Not even Frey."

"So … I mean, you didn't die. Unless you're a very good-looking corpse."

"Thanks." Mal laughed quietly. "No, you're right. I got better. Took a while but eventually I could stand up without passing out, then longer to be able to walk again. I guess it was maybe a year before she'd let me ride out with the men again. Longest year of my life. 'Cept maybe during the war. There were days then that felt longer."

He looked back into the past, then shook himself. "The point I'm making is … it don't matter if they're ten, a month or not even quite there yet. You still worry. You always will. Hell, when Ethan's fifty Frey and me'll probably still be fretting about him. You're gonna be a dad, Hank. And I have to tell you … it's up there with the best feelings in the world. And you're gonna be afraid too. That you won't be able to look after him. I think it comes with the whole 'being a father' thing. Even Jayne'll be like that one day."

"You think?"

"He's courting River. I wouldn't be surprised if that's how it ends up."

"Courting?"

"You say one word and he'll put you back in the infirmary." Mal shook his head. "'N' I shouldn't've said anything either. Must be Halvie's good rice wine making me talk too much."

"No, Mal," Hank said, smiling, a feeling of relief spreading through him. "I think maybe you talked just enough."

In the darkness Mal blushed. "Yeah, well, I think it's time I got to bed. Frey'll be wondering where I am."

"She isn't the only one." A different voice from the darkness, and a swish of heavy fabric.

They both looked up.

She'd thrown on a robe, one Inara had given her for her last birthday, and stood watching the two men in her life, her hair loose around her shoulders, looking dramatic and beautiful.

"Hi, honey," Hank said tentatively.

"Is there a particular reason you're out here, and not in bed with me?" Zoe asked.

"No, no. I just …" Hank stood up. "Mal wanted to talk." He rolled his eyes.

His captain glared at him but didn't disagree. He raised himself slowly to his feet. "Just needed a quiet word with my pilot," he said.

"Mmn."

"You saying I ain't telling the truth?"

"Not sure, captain," Zoe admitted, her dark face almost indistinguishable from the rest of the night, only her eyes bright, fixed on him.

"Men gotta talk sometimes. Not too often, I'll grant you, but sometimes …"

"Mmn."

"You can be replaced, you know."

"No, I can't."

Mal glared at her, then his look eased. "Well, maybe not. If you didn't know where all the skeletons are buried, though –"

"Skeletons?" Hank interrupted.

"Figure of speech, dear." Zoe held out her hand. "You ready to come back and be sensible?"

Hank stared and wondered just how much she'd heard. "Sensible?" he managed to say. "When am I ever that?"

"Oh, I think you've got more sense that you let on." She reached for him. "Come on. I feel the need to be close." She glanced at Mal. "If that's okay with you, sir."

He waved his hands. "Hey, I ain't getting involved."

"Wasn't asking you to, sir."

"Well, good."

Zoe entwined her fingers in Hank's shirt. "Come on. I'm not in the mood to wait."

"Am I being kidnapped?" Hank asked, letting her pull him along.

"Yes."

"Right." He grinned. "Help. Help."

She smiled in the darkness. "You keep going on that way, you're gonna be a great father," she said softly.

Mal watched them head back to Serenity, then looked up at the stars. They were always there, as they had been when he'd been lying on that bed, staring up through the window in the roof, thinking he might never get out there, into the black. He grinned. Still flyin', he thought, and walked back to his family.


	2. Chapter 2

Crandall was a tall man, almost as big and broad as Jayne. He looked liked he'd been through just as many bar fights, too, judging from the somewhat broken nature of his nose. Which made his choice of clothes all the more surprising. He was dressed in slacks and a sweater that wouldn't have looked out of place on the young doctor. His age, though, Mal would put at near his own, and the idle thought occurred to him that he'd probably fought in the war.

"Captain Reynolds." Crandall smiled.

"That's me." Mal walked down the ramp, leaving Zoe and Jayne standing at the top. He didn't hold out his hand. "Got your goods right here." He looked past Crandall towards the two men waiting by the small hover. "Only it looks to me like you're gonna have to come back for 'em. They won't fit into that little thing."

Crandall's smile didn't waver. "Well, that's what I'd like to talk to you about. Can we go inside?"

Mal didn't move. "It's a nice day."

Crandall shrugged. "As you say." He gestured over his shoulder to his hover. "This is my personal vehicle."

"Nice." Mal didn't mind making small talk, as long as it didn't go on too long. "So you're getting something bigger to come?"

"There is a slight problem with that. These goods are destined for my storage facility in the mountains." He glanced towards the smudge of dark blue on the horizon. "And there would normally be no problem with my men taking it there, except our mule is out of action at the moment."

"Fixable?"

"We're waiting for a part. So I was wondering if you could be presumed upon to deliver the goods direct."

Mal nodded slowly. "Might be able to. If we land my boat close by –"

"Sorry," Crandall interrupted. "My facility … well, it sits into the mountain itself. There's nowhere to land a ship within a fair distance."

"Shuttle?"

Crandall shook his head. "Don't you have a ground vehicle that could make it?"

Mal glanced over his shoulder at the hover mule hanging in Serenity's cargo hold. "We do, but …" He considered. The amount of goods to be delivered meant that he could only take one other person with him.

"I'll pay extra."

"It ain't a matter of payment." Mal shrugged. "Well, not entirely a matter of that."

"Captain Reynolds, I'd be grateful."

"Why don't we just leave 'em here?" Jayne suggested. "Hide 'em somewhere 'til you get your mule fixed."

"Paquin isn't exactly … we have troubles with bandits sometimes," Crandall explained, almost apologetically. "That's why I have my facility in the mountains. It's more secure."

"Then we could hover over your place and lower it down on a rope." Zoe stepped down the ramp. "It should all fit on a pallet."

Crandall shook his head. "Some of the items are … fragile."

"That wasn't told to us when we took them on board," Mal pointed out. "Any damage done, well, that ain't our responsibility."

"I never said it was, Captain. And I wouldn't hold you to it. But …" He reached into his pocket.

Mal felt Zoe tense beside him. "Just be real careful what you take out of there," he advised.

Crandall jerked, then nodded, slowly removing his hand, a roll of notes in his palm. "I realise this is an inconvenience, Captain. But I am more than ready to recompense you for your trouble."

Mal didn't speak for a moment, then nodded. "Best give me the co-ordinates. We'll take Serenity as far as we can, then use the mule the rest of the way."

--

"Sorry, Cap, but Serenity ain't going anywhere for a day or so."

Mal crossed his arms in annoyance. "Kaylee, got us a job we need to do. So unless you've got a mighty fine reason for saying that -"

"How about she'll blow up if you try and take off?"

Mal swallowed then nodded slowly. "Well, that's pretty good. How come?"

"The flux on the main intake was going, but I hoped it'd last 'til we got back to Lazarus and I could spend some time taking -"

"Kaylee. Captain dummy talk?"

"That was." She looked into his blue eyes. "It went. And if we take off now, the fuel cells'll start leaking and we -"

"Go boom?"

"Yep. In a long and loudly fashion. Probably quite pretty too, if'n you're not inside at the time."

He pushed the mental image of Serenity raining down in little pieces from his mind. "Okay." He gazed at her. "How long?"

"Maybe thirty-six hours. If it's just the flux I can replace that, 'n' it takes twenty -four to cure … course, can't tell 'til I get in there if it's already caused any damage."

Mal put his hand on her shoulder. "Best get on with it then."

"Will do, Cap." Kaylee grinned at him and scampered off back to the engine room.

"We ain't flying Serenity in?" Jayne asked from the doorway to the dining area.

"Nope. Looks like we're gonna have to use the mule the whole way, since we can't get her in a shuttle."

"Aw, Mal, that's gonna take forever," the big man whined.

"Less if you get her ready now."

The mercenary looked about to argue some more, but saw the look on Mal's face and headed back towards the cargo bay, muttering Chinese under his breath.

Mal grinned and headed in the other direction, looking for Freya to let her know they were staying put a while longer.

--

Simon was examining Ethan in the infirmary, the little boy lying on the medbed, Freya standing close by.

"Frey?" Mal asked, stepping inside. "What happened?" He crossed the room quickly to stand next to his wife.

Ethan looked up and him and waved his hands, laughing at his father, apparently none the worse for wear.

"He knocked his head." Freya was looking worried. "He was trying to stand up, and … I don't know. Next thing I knew he was on the floor."

"He's fine, Mal," Simon said, looking up. "Just a little knock." He smiled. "Bethany used to do it all the time."

"Yeah, I remember." Mal let Ethan take hold of his fingers. "You sure he's okay?"

"He's going to have a bruise, and maybe a bit of a lump, but otherwise he's fine."

"Only the job ain't quite finished yet, and we need to …" He glanced at Freya. "You gonna be okay here for a day or two? I gotta take Jayne with me, but …"

"We'll be fine." Freya had relaxed as Simon spoke, and now smiled at her husband. "I'll just spend the time padding every piece of furniture we've got."

"Besides, I'd like to keep an eye on Ethan for a while," Simon said, still looking at his readouts.

"What? Why?" Mal asked, exchanging a newly worried glance with his wife.

"He has a slight temperature." Simon looked up, then realised what his words had suggested. "No, it's nothing much, just half a degree."

"Halvie's kid," Mal breathed.

"What?" Simon asked.

"Halvorsen's little boy was sick," Freya explained. "That's why we came home sooner than expected." She ran her hand across Ethan's forehead. "Could he have picked it up that quickly?"

Simon smiled a little. "Frey, children get temperatures. Mostly it doesn't do them any harm, so I'm just saying we need to watch him. Nothing else."

"Can you give him something?"

"I'd rather not. As I said, it's just half a degree, and he'll probably be back to normal in the morning."

Mal shook his head. "Ain't the time for me to be going anywhere," he muttered.

"You've got a job to do," Freya said, holding her concern back. "And we've got the best doctor this side of the Core. Ethan'll be fine."

"Can you find out what that child has? If they know?" Simon asked.

"Sure." She looked back at her son. "Can I take him back to the nursery?"

"That'll be fine. Just don't let him play with Bethany for a day or two. Until I say it's okay."

"Whatever you say." Mal picked his son up, sitting him on his hip. "Only I'm not sure Bethie's gonna be too pleased about that."

--

Zoe watched the mule head off towards the mountains. From the co-ordinates Crandall had given them, it was going to be a day there and a day back. She smiled. All in Jayne's company. For once she didn't mind that she wasn't going.

Maybe they could do some of the male bonding she'd heard so much about.

She laughed a little and headed back into the cargo bay, pausing on the threshold at the scene in front of her. Her – for want of a better phrase – other half was fighting, stabbing with a stick at something quite invisible, and talking to himself.

"Have at ye, ye varlet," he said, thrusting his stick forward, then pulling back, watching the air as it seemed to fall to the ground. Then he turned. "Sneak up on me, would you? Ha!" He thrashed, one leg bouncing off the deck as he parried before delivering the killing blow. Without a pause he turned again, this time facing Bethany. "To the death!" he shouted, advancing on her.

"To the death!" she echoed, running towards him, under the stick, colliding with his legs and sending them both to the ground.

"Oh, oh," he cried. "Mortally wounded!"

"Don't you think you'd be better off helping Kaylee?" Zoe asked.

Hank sat up, his face burning. "I was."

"Oh? How?"

"I offered," the pilot said. "Only she told me to …" He glanced down at the little girl in his lap. "That my assistance wasn't wanted."

Bethany giggled.

"What did everyone say about peeking?" Zoe asked, looking at her sternly.

"Wasn't peeking. I heard." She tapped her ears.

"And there was Kaylee telling everyone to be careful what they said around her," Hank muttered, pulling a patch down over his eye. "And she's as bad as the rest of us."

"What's that for?"

"Uncle Hank's playing pirates." Bethany picked up the small cardboard sword Hank had made her and waved it around.

"Pirates?"

"That's how I'm helping. Kaylee told me to keep Bethie occupied," Hank explained. "Since she can't play with Ethan at the moment."

"So it had to be pirates."

"Bethie insisted. Only she won't let me be Blackbeard," Hank complained. "Says that's Jayne."

"So who are you?"

Hank grinned, letting his chest swell with pride. "I'm the good guys. Out to capture the dread buccaneers and put them to the rope."

"I really think you have to stop reading those books."

"Auntie Zoe play with us?" Bethany asked.

"I have things to do –"

"Please?" The little girl turned her big eyes onto full, including the trembling of the lower lip.

"I don't have a sword," Zoe said, knowing she was giving in.

"You know, if I recall correctly, people on this boat don't have that much of a reputation with swords." Hank reached over and picked up another stick. "Here."

Bethany grinned and got to her feet, advancing on Zoe.

"Grr. Argh." She tried to growl the same way Jayne had shown her. "Time to walk the plank."

"I'm not walking any plank," Zoe said firmly.

"But you're the damsel in distress," Hank explained. "I get to come and rescue you just in the nick of time from the fearsome pirate captain."

"Grr."

"Since when have I ever been a damsel? In distress or otherwise?"

"Might have been. Once. You know. A long time ago."

"No."

"Grr."

"Couldn't you try?"

"No."

"Spoilsport."

"Uncle Hank has to walk the plank?" Bethany asked, looking between them.

"You know, I think that's a good idea," Zoe agreed, smiling at her. "He can be the damsel in distress instead."

"Honey, I ain't a damsel even more than you."

"Grr." Bethany poked him with her sword. "Time to walk the plank."

Hank glanced at Zoe then sighed. Might as well make the most of this, he decided. Striking a theatrical pose, his hands clasped in front of his chest, he lisped, "No, no, pleath. I am but a poor damthel in dithtreth. Who will thave me from thith beatht?"

"Fear not, sweet damsel," came a voice from above. They all looked up. River was standing on the top catwalk railing, her hair flying in the breeze from the open door, a tricorn hat cunningly made out of paper on her head. In her left hand was another of the cardboard swords, while she held onto a rope with the other. "I will rescue you!" She put the sword between her teeth, and swung down, alighting on the decking and running in the same movement.

"Grr," Bethany growled and advanced on her prey.

"Um, honey?" Hank began. "Should we be letting them do this?"

"Hank, if I were you, I'd just stay out of it and watch. Might learn something."

"Oh. Okay."

"Grr."


	3. Chapter 3

"So," Mal said, feeling the breeze from the mountains blowing through his hair and pulling his coat a little closer about himself. "You want us to drop by Jiangyin any time soon?"

Jayne muttered something under his breath, but shook his head. "Ain't asking."

"Only I'd'a thought you'd want for us to see your _son_ get married."

"He ain't mine." Jayne concentrated on the way ahead, manoeuvring the hover mule around an outcrop of rocks.

"Close enough." Mal glanced at the big man. "You ashamed of us or something?"

Jayne didn't answer, not for a few seconds. "Ain't you," he finally said, his voice whipped away by the wind. "Me."

"You're ashamed of you?"

"Mal, I really don't wanna talk about it."

Mal sat quietly for a minute or two. "Have you answered his letter?" he asked finally.

Jayne shook his head. "Not yet. Don't seem right, not 'til I know what to do."

"When's this wedding supposed to be, anyhow?" Jayne was silent, and Mal turned to look at him. "Well?"

"I'm thinking."

"Well think a little faster. I'd kinda like an answer before I'm too old to hear it."

Jayne sighed audibly. "Mal, the thing is … Simon's kinda said he ain't gonna ask the girl 'til I say I'm coming."

"He wants your permission?" Mal tried to hide his amusement, and only the corners of his mouth twitched.

"Nah, nothing like that." Jayne sat up straighter. "Least, I don't think so. He just wants me to be there, be his best man 'n' everything."

"What's wrong with that?"

"It's me, Mal." Jayne shot a glare at him. "I ain't what a girl wants in a father-in-law. Not even a one who ain't real."

"They don't know that."

"Makes it worse. She's gonna think he's gonna end up like me, and … well, I wouldn't wish that on anyone."

That wasn't something Mal could really argue with. No matter that the big man had changed over the past few years, more recently since River had taken him in hand, but there was no doubting he was a shock to the system. That's what made him so useful sometimes. "She might like you."

"Me?" Jayne scoffed. "I'm a killer, Mal. Got me more scalps hanging from my belt than I can number, and that ain't likely to improve. Would you want me as a relative?"

Mal's mind darted to the conversation he'd had with Kaylee not that long ago, when she'd said that he could end up as Jayne's pa-in-law, seeing as he treated River like a daughter. That, however, he intended to keep to himself, particularly as it made him just a little queasy to be thinking on it. "Jayne, it might not have escaped your notice, but we're kinda all family anyway. Simon Cobb's just an extension of that. So'd his wife be."

"Yeah, but -"

"But nothing. You need to answer his letter. If you really feel you can't go to the wedding, well, that's up to you. But he wanted you for his father. Against all expectation and common sense, because his mother saw something good in you. I reckon you don't want to be making her out to be a liar, now, do you?"

Jayne hunched down into his coat, his eyes fixed on the mountains ahead.

--

"Here." Freya held out a cup of coffee, letting the aroma waft towards the young mechanic.

Kaylee sniffed and rolled out on the trolley from under the engine housing. "Oh, you are a lifesaver," she said, taking the mug and draining half of it in one go.

"Careful, it's hot," Freya said, her lips curving.

"Don't care," Kaylee managed to say, her eyes watering a little. She rubbed them with a greasy hand, leaving a smear of something above her brow. "Tastes good."

"How's it going?"

"I think we're lucky." She tucked her legs under her. "It don't look like there's any damage, so I can just reflux and we'll be ready to get gone once the Cap and Jayne get back."

"Good."

Kaylee took a more careful sip. "How's Ethan?"

Frey looked over her shoulder towards the bunks. "He's sleeping."

"That wasn't what I asked."

Freya turned back. "He's still got that temperature."

"Bethany used to get 'em," Kaylee said confidently. "Lots. I'd be hanging around the bed, feeling her forehead every ten minutes, just to … but it weren't nothing. Kids get these things."

"I know."

"It don't help, though, does it? Hearing that."

Freya smiled a little. "No. Not really. I mean, I know … I remember Bethany getting … but he's my son, Kaylee."

"And nothing anyone says is gonna stop you fretting."

"No."

Kaylee laughed. "It's called being a mother. Now I know what my Ma used to go on about with me and my brothers. All the times she'd say we were putting her into an early grave."

"Really?"

"She didn't mean it. It was just her way of telling us that she was concerned about us." Kaylee finished her coffee and handed the mug back. "And since she's still around, I guess we weren't that bad."

"Not that bad, no."

Kaylee grinned. "Well, I gotta get on, else the Cap ain't gonna be pleased when he gets home and finds I blew up his boat anyway."

"Mmn, yes, not a good idea."

Kaylee rolled back under the housing. "Ain't it your turn to cook tonight?" she called, her voice echoing through Serenity's innards.

"That it is."

"You'd better get started, then. I'm starving!"

Her laughter followed Freya as she took the mugs into the kitchen. Not that food was on her mind. She was thinking about what Hannah had said just a short while before when she'd waved.

"It ain't anything, Freya," the woman had insisted. "Just a temperature and sniffles. Not even really anything more'n a cold."

"Did you call a doctor?"

Hannah had shaken her head. "It wasn't needed. Besides, he's much better now. And Ethan will be too, you see. In the morning he'll be jumping around on his bed, waking you up."

"I hope so." Freya had smiled.

Now, though, as she washed the mugs and put them away, she couldn't help the faint chill running down the flame on her back. Not a premonition, but just a worry that … no, not even that. More an itch. And she needed to scratch it before she could even begin to think about anything else.

Hurrying to the crew quarters, she climbed down the ladder into their bunk, and turned towards the nursery.

"Bethany?" She stopped in surprise as she saw the little girl standing next to Ethan's bed. "What are you doing in here?"

"Came to keep Ethan company," Bethany explained, not turning.

"But you're not supposed to be playing with Ethan right now." Freya stepped into the nursery. "Didn't your daddy tell you?"

"Not playing," Bethany said firmly. "I'm painting." She turned, and Freya could see her little hands were covered in a mixture of colours.

"Painting? Painting what?"

Bethany suddenly giggled, her hands covering her mouth and leaving marks all across her cheeks.

"Oh, honey, no. You don't want to be …" In the act of reaching for the little girl with one hand and a towel with another, Freya got a good look at her son. "Oh, good Lord."

"Ethan's a clown," Bethany explained.

Freya couldn't stop staring. Ethan had a bright green face, an enormous red smile painted across his mouth and cheeks, and bright blue circles for eyes. "Where did you …"

"Auntie River paints," Bethany said, wiping her hands down her dress.

"No, don't -"

"Frey?" River called from the ladder.

"Thank heavens. River, can you come down and help me?"

The young psychic hurried down the rungs, then burst out laughing.

"That doesn't help," Freya said, trying to stop Bethany from making more of a mess while wanting to clean up her son.

"It's actually very artistic," River pointed out, grabbing a flannel from the sink and rinsing it under the water. "Perhaps I should show her how to draw."

"I'd rather you helped me clean them up."

River picked up the towel. "Here. You wash, I'll dry."

--

Jayne poked the fire with a stick, watching the end catch and glow. They were in the foothills, but there was no point going on until daybreak. All too easy to end up taking a wrong turn and getting lost. They'd already eaten - protein bars and coffee - and were now ready to sleep.

"How's the courting going?" Mal asked, laying back and resting on one elbow.

"Not sure."

"Have you told her you love her yet?"

"She knows how I feel."

"That ain't the same thing. Women like to be told. Hell, I spent so long not telling Frey how I felt I'm surprised my tongue hadn't shrivelled up."

"It ain't the same. You and Frey, it ain't the same."

"Why not?"

"This thing with River … it's some kind of mental aberration on her part."

"You think she doesn't love you?"

"That's what I mean. She does. Only I can't figure out why."

"Jayne, I have to admit, that's one of the big questions in this 'verse, along with the meaning of life and how come Frey can't keep a pair of socks longer'n a week." He glanced at the big man. "Your socks okay, by the way?"

Jayne nodded, lifting one big booted foot. "Wearing 'em now. Pretty keen."

"Get your ma to knit me some, will you? I'll pay, a'course."

"Sure thing."

"'N' a pair for Frey. Maybe on a long string that goes up one leg and down the other."

"Like them mittens the short stub has?"

"Yeah. Maybe she won't be able to lose 'em so easily."

"No problem."

"Anyway, back to River -"

"No, Mal," Jayne interrupted. "I know you wanna play the father to us, but that just seems … well, gross far as I'm concerned. I'm older'n you, and … well, it's just disgusting."

"You're still my crew."

"'N' that gives you the right to pry into my affairs?"

"No. But … hell, Jayne, you came to me to ask permission to court the girl!"

"'Cause she told me to!"

Mal laughed. "And you usually do what women tell you?"

"Well, not 'less they got a gun on me, no."

"Jayne, much as it pains me to say this, I think it's true love between you two. Freezes the blood, and makes a mockery of … what?"

Jayne wasn't moving. But it wasn't just the immobility of the bored, or anything like that. It was the stillness of the born tracker, and as a sliver of apprehension worked its way up Mal's neck, he realised once again just how superb at that Jayne was.

"What?" he repeated quietly.

"Someone's out there."

"Where?"

"Can't tell. Just know we're being watched."

"Hostile?"

"I think there's only one of 'em, if that's what you mean."

"Doesn't need more than one to make an unpleasantness."

"No, guess not." Jayne was listening, but not only with his ears. His entire being was being spread out, tasting the air, letting his peripheral vision pick up even the slightest of movements, feeling the ground for a footfall out of place.

After a long moment he exhaled, his body relaxing a little.

"They've gone?"

Jayne nodded. "Might've been an animal, attracted by the fire," he suggested, piling more wood on.

"But you don't think so."

"Nope. It was a man. I could smell him."

"Then we'd better take turns keeping watch. You get some rest -"

"No. I'll take first watch, in case he comes back." Jayne picked up Vera and laid her on his knees.

"Jayne -"

"Cap, this time, _you_ do what you're told."

Mal wanted to argue, but he knew his mercenary was right. Wrapping his coat tightly around himself, he lay down, facing into the fire, his head on a small boulder.

An animal howled a distance away, the sound cutting through the cold air to hit Mal's hindbrain and kick in all those instincts that had lain dormant since man had first learned to chase back the night. He shivered, knowing sleep was not going to come easy.


	4. Chapter 4

Zoe was struggling to do up her pants. "Gorramit," she muttered, pulling first one side, then the other, but neither wanted to meet in the middle.

"Honey?" Hank asked, turning from his shaving. "You okay?"

"Nothing fits!" Zoe sat down hard on the bed.

"What?"

"Nothing rutting fits me any more!" She lay back, her hair spread out on the blankets.

He approached her cautiously, the foam still sticking to his cheeks. "That's because you're pregnant," he said softly. "Kinda takes women that way. So I'm told."

"But there ain't one thing in here that fits me!" She nodded towards her pants. "And these are the biggest I've got!"

He sighed. He'd known this moment was coming, and had prepared for it, but it still wasn't going to make things any easier. "Zo, sweetheart," he began, "I think you've just gotta accept you ain't gonna get into your normal clothes for the next few months. You got our baby inside you, and he's growing. He's gonna be a fine, strong kid, only that means he's gonna be … well, probably big."

"Big?" She glared at him. "How big? And it's all your fault anyway."

He sat down gingerly next to her. "I know that. And I promise I will never come near you with my lewd and lascivious body ever again. But would you take a moment to try and calm down?"

"Calm …" She hit him, a full fist right on the muscle of his arm. "Calm? Who the hell says I ain't calm?"

"Um, me." He rubbed the bruise.

She closed her eyes. "Damn," she whispered.

"You know, I'm just kinda glad it's only you that's pregnant at the moment," Hank said, his tone light and conversational. "I'd hate to think what it'd be like if Freya and Kaylee were expecting too. 'Cause I get the feeling us guys'd be living in the shuttles."

"Am I that bad?" she asked, her eyes still closed.

"Yes."

"Sorry."

"Don't be. Be worth it at the end."

"You think?"

"Only if you promise not to hit me again."

She sat up and put her chin on his shoulder. "Sorry. It's just …"

"You're frustrated."

"Big time."

"Well, got something here might help." He reached under the bed and pulled out a bag. "Inara thought these might come in handy."

Zoe took the bag and opened it. Inside were a selection of tops and pants, all in softer material than she was used to, and all in pretty colours. "They ain't me," she said, reaching in and letting the fabric run through her fingers.

"No. Maybe not. But you don't have to wear them right now." He picked up one of the tops, a silky number in reds and golds. "Although I think they'd suit you." He held it up to her skin. "Brings out the fire in your eyes." He grinned.

"Yeah, well, that's pretty."

"And you can still wear your pants, just one of these over the top. Then it won't show that you can't get them done up."

"But they'll fall –"

"Not with these." He put his hand in his pocket and pulled out half a dozen pieces of elastic, each with a loop at one end and a button at the other. "They're kind of extenders. Make sure you stay decent."

Zoe picked one up, turning it over. "You made these?"

He shrugged. "Seemed like a good idea."

"So you knew I was going to …"

"I know my Zoe."

"Seems like you do." She stood up, picking up the flame top from the bag and going to the mirror, holding it up in front of her. "How big?" she asked.

--

They'd moved off at first light, neither of them having slept much. Mal had tried to contact Serenity, but the distance was too great for the small comunits, and something in the rocks was interfering with reception anyway.

"Great," Jayne said. "I don't got a good feeling about this."

"This time tomorrow you'll be tucked up warm in your bunk," Mal assured him.

"Shoulda told him to wait. Crandall, I mean." He watched Mal navigate the tight, winding trail through the narrow canyons, their speed now little more than walking pace due to the terrain.

"He was paying, Jayne."

"Yeah, but that don't mean we had to jump just 'cause he whistled."

Mal was thinking pretty much the same thing, but he wasn't going to let on. "Well, we're here now. No point in turning back."

"Guess not." Jayne hunkered down in his seat, Vera on his lap.

"Just enjoy the ride."

By mid-morning Jayne's mood hadn't improved, and he was fidgeting. "Can't be far," he muttered.

Mal checked their position. "Close."

A small rain of pebbles hit the ground in front of them.

"Mal, that uncomfortableness just got a lot worse," Jayne said quietly, flicking the restraining strap from his gun and gripping Vera tighter.

"Me too." Mal couldn't hold his weapon, but his hand was very close to the butt.

They turned a corner, but their way was blocked by boulders …

--

"What's that?" Simon asked, stepping down into the galley

"A book." Freya smiled at him from the seating area, Ethan wrapped up in blankets and asleep next to her.

"I can see that. I meant –"

"It's one of Hank's. You know, when I was pregnant with this little one – " She glanced down at the little boy next to her and stroked his cheek. " – when _you_ wouldn't let me out of the bunk – I read so many of these I … well …"

Simon smiled as he poured a coffee. "Got addicted?"

"Something like that. I mean, they're all alike. Change the names and you've got another book. The story's always on the lines of boy meets girl, boy loses girl. Boy goes off to fight war. Boy comes back, finds girl's married someone else. Someone else dies, boy and girl live happily ever after."

"That complex."

"Oh, and you can throw into the mix that the girl hears, erroneously, that the boy's been killed in battle, and marries on the rebound, but won't be unfaithful to the man who took her in." She grinned and held up the paperback. "Ninety percent of these have happy endings. No wonder Hank thinks he can write one and make a packet."

"Really?" Simon smiled over the mug.

"Oh, yes. I have it on good authority that he's got at least half a manuscript already, and he keeps working on it."

"And what is this opus about?"

"Well, as far as I can gather, it's about the captain of a sailing vessel and his handsome, yet modest pilot, where the crew includes a doctor and his sister …"

Simon laughed. "I think I want to read this before he submits it to anyone."

Freya shook her head. "He'll never finish it. Not now Zoe's pregnant."

"Yes, I think he's got quite a lot on his mind. That top Zoe had on at breakfast was quite amazing. I didn't think she owned anything like that."

"I don't think she does. I'd take a guess and say Inara gave it to her. Something to do with clothes not fitting too well at the moment."

"You haven't peeked?"

"I don't do that, Simon."

"No. I guess you don't." He gazed at her thoughtfully. "Is that what you want? A happy ending?"

"Is that wrong?" Freya glanced down at her son. "Oh, I know I've got Mal and Ethan. All of you … it's just, sometimes, it's nice to leave it up to somebody else."

"Even if they're authors who should know better?"

She laughed. "Even then."

--

The men appeared from the rocks, nearly a dozen of them, all armed. Jayne turned quickly, looking behind them. Three more, big guns.

Jayne glanced at Mal. "This ain't good," he murmured.

"Think that might be an understatement." Mal leaned forward. "Looks like there's been a landslide," he called, keeping his voice light. "You gents care to help us clear it?"

One of the men stepped forward, his greasy hair overhanging his forehead, his clothes looking like they were made up from someone else's cast-offs.

"Not likely to happen." He hefted a shotgun in his hands, and didn't look like he was unhappy about using it.

"Really? Thought it'd be neighbourly."

"You ain't no neighbours of ours."

"Pity." Mal looked at them, smiling. "Then maybe you can tell us another way round. Gotta get these goods to their owner."

"Crandall."

Mal felt Jayne stir next to him. "Could be. You know the man?"

"We've met." He looked at the man next to him. "Thrown most of us off our land."

"Nothing to do with me, friend."

"Ain't your friend, neither."

Mal tried again. "Look, I ain't too sure what beef you've got with Crandall, only we've kinda get caught in the middle of it. We're just doing a job here."

"Ain't that a shame," he said. "Only, you know, I don't exactly care."

"Really." Mal attempted a smile. "Then we'll be on our way."

"Nope, that ain't gonna happen either. You're gonna give us all that pretty stuff you got on board."

"Ain't mine to give."

The man went on as if he hadn't heard. "Then you're gonna get down off that fancy ride and take a walk."

"Now, you see, walking ain't exactly my favourite form of exercise," Mal said. "What _is_ is between my wife and me, but the walking … not so much. So as this vehicle is mine, and the goods behind me belong to someone else, we're at something of an impasse."

The man stared at him. "Come again?"

"Basically, no," Mal said succinctly.

"That's a real shame. 'Cause there ain't no-one around here who's gonna help you. And bodies go missing up here all the time."

Mal didn't look at Jayne: didn't have to. "Can't we come to some arrangement?" he asked, knowing the big man's hands were ready. "I don't want to kill you, and you don't want to be dead. 'Sides, my friend here's son is getting married, and you wouldn't want to make what should be the happiest day of his life into the saddest, now would you?"

"Only arrangement I see is you getting buried." There was the click of safeties being removed.

Mal sighed as a sift of snowflakes started to fall. "I was afraid you'd say that."

--

"Can I talk to you?" Simon asked, sitting down in the chair next to Freya.

She smiled. "Sorry, I sidetracked you, didn't I?"

"That's okay." He glanced down at Ethan. "How is he?"

She put her hand on her son. "He seems to be okay. Just a bit sleepy." Her eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"Oh, no, it's not that I want to talk to you about."

She relaxed a little. "So, what did you want to talk about?"

"Freya Reynolds."

She chuckled, a bit surprised. "That's me."

"Only it isn't."

"Funny, I thought it was."

"That's who you are now. But it wasn't who you used to be."

"Where are you going with this?"

"It's something that came to me. I just wondered … Does it matter to you that you're not Elena Rostov any more?"

--

Jayne was fast, his handgun booming in the confined space, and two men fell immediately. Mal was firing too, and the man who had threatened them went down, his hand clutched to his shoulder. The others scattered to cover.

"No kill shots!" Mal shouted, ducking down, emptying his gun towards the bandits.

A shotgun blast hit the canyon wall next to Jayne's face. "Tell that to them!" he grunted, still shooting.

Mal thrust his weapon back into his holster and gunned the hover mule, throwing it into reverse. "Clear the road."

Jayne nodded, dragging Vera into view and pumping shells into the ground in front of the men blocking their way. They ran back, ducking out of the way as the hover span on its axis and flew forward.

Mal grinned, then felt something thud into his chest, and suddenly he found it hard to breathe.

--

"What are you talking about?"

"I can't give Kaylee another baby. But maybe there's a way round. If I can find a donor willing to supply –" He stopped, seeing the colour leach from Freya's face. "What is it?"

Freya ignored him, just ran for the engine room. "Kaylee! How long?" she demanded.

Kaylee was half inside the engine housing. "Gonna be a few hours yet," she said, looking up, then stopped as she saw Freya's white face. "What is it?"

"We need Serenity. Mal's hurt."

"What? What happened?"

"I don't know. Serenity?" Freya prompted.

"Sorry, but no. Maybe two hours."

Freya shook her head. "Not quick enough. Have to be the shuttle. Kaylee, take care of Ethan." She turned to Simon, who'd followed her. "Get your stuff," she said, heading past him towards the cargo bay.

--

"Mal!" Jayne shouted, pointing towards a rocky outcrop coming up real fast. He turned, saw the captain slumped sideways in the seat. He dragged him out of the way, just managing to regain control in time, swinging the hover around and straightening her up. He glanced down. Mal was conscious, just, but there was a bloom of blood on his shirt. "_Ching-wah tsao duh liou_," he muttered, but it wasn't clear who he meant.

Up ahead he could see a cave system, one they'd passed on their way in, and he turned the hover towards the furthest one, big enough for the hover to get inside. He needed to check Mal over, _mah shong_.


	5. Chapter 5

"No," Hank said firmly. "No way. You ain't going."

Zoe strapped her gun to her hip, finding it still did up, just. Grabbing her coat she headed for the ladder. "Freya's waiting."

"Zoe, did you hear me?"

She looked at him. "I'm going, Hank."

"But you're pregnant!"

"And he's my captain." She hurried up the ladder, Hank following literally at her heels.

"Please, Zoe." He was pleading now.

"Hank, we have to get him back."

"Frey's not even sure!"

She looked at him. "Do you want to tell her that?"

"Zoe …" He put his hand on her arm. "I just checked the sensors. There's one hell of a storm front coming through, right where you're headed. The shuttle's not safe, not in that."

She didn't shout at him, didn't tell him where to go. Instead she kissed his lips softly. "I understand, Hank. But he's my friend. And if Freya says he's hurt, then I believe her."

"But –"

"No buts. Even if I don't go, Freya will, and so will Simon."

"Zoe!" Freya shouted from the cargo bay.

"Coming." She looked at Hank and touched his cheek. "It's decided." She dragged her coat on over the silky top, knowing it wasn't going to meet in front, and this time not caring. She hurried towards shuttle two.

He glared after her, then stomped towards the bridge.

"She'll be okay," Kaylee said as he passed her.

"Is this what she did before? With Wash?" he asked, turning a pained look on the young mechanic.

"He's the captain. If I thought I could do any good, I'd be going too."

"But she's pregnant."

"Hank, Simon's there too. You think he's gonna let her do anything stupid?"

He closed his eyes and sighed. "It's just –"

Kaylee put her arms around him and hugged him tightly. "I know. So does she. You just gotta talk about these things when she gets back, _dong mah_?"

"I do try."

"Try harder."

--

River darted into the shuttle behind her brother, closing the door as she did so.

"What do you think you're doing?" Simon asked, staring at her.

"I'm going to help."

"River –"

"Up front with me," Freya called from the small bridge.

"She needs me," River said softly, sliding past him.

Simon stared at Zoe, sitting against the bulkhead, who shrugged.

"Can you feel them?" River asked Freya as the shuttle disconnected, lifting up and away from the Firefly and heading towards the mountains.

"Some. Just …"

"He'll be all right," River said softly. "Jayne's with him."

--

Inside the cave Jayne lifted Mal down from the hover, hearing the other man groan. "That's it," he muttered. "You stay alive."

He laid him carefully onto the floor of the cave, far enough away from the mouth so he couldn't be seen clearly, but close enough so there was enough light. He pulled Mal's brown coat away, then his shirt. A single gunshot wound low down on Mal's right side, probably not fatal, except maybe for blood loss or infection. And the whistling sound every time Mal breathed in.

He covered the wound with his hand, pressing down, earning another low cry from the man on the floor, but the whistling stopped. Except he couldn't stay like this, and if the bullet had caught the lung, he'd be pushing air into his chest that way too. He had to think of something else.

--

They made it to the mountains in quick time, getting to the co-ordinates Crandall had given them for his storage facility. He was right – there was nowhere to land anything even as small as the shuttle, and there was no sign of the hover either.

"Backtrack," River said, pointing to the trail on the topographical map on the screen.

Freya nodded.

--

Jayne could smell alcohol, and investigated. One of the wooden crates on the hover had been hit, and something expensive was dripping from it. He dipped his fingers into the pool and tasted. Whisky, and damn good quality. Better than the rotgut he usually bought. He grinned sombrely. Looked like Crandall had a taste for the good things in life. Luckily, he had a better use for it.

--

A short distance from the facility they came across several wounded men, being helped along by others who fired up at the shuttle before the downdraft had them hiding their faces, pulling the falling snow into a maelstrom. Blood was staining the ground around a couple of the bodies.

"I'd say they were here," Freya commented softly.

"Ambush," River agreed.

"No hover."

"Keep going."

--

Mal was finding it harder to breathe, and every time he expanded his lungs it hurt to the point of wishing he could just pass out. Only he knew if he did, he probably wouldn't wake up. Jayne had been as gentle as he could, but just being moved from the hover to the ground was almost too much. He'd cried out, he knew that, his scream echoing through the cave, but he didn't care. Now he just felt cold, and he started to shiver.

Jayne walked back towards him.

"You planning on having a party?" Mal ground out, watching the big man approach with a bottle of something in his hand.

"It's for you." Jayne squatted down, opening the bottle and pouring it over his thinnest knife, the smell of whisky filling the cave. "You got air leaking into your chest, Mal. If I don't relieve it, you're gonna die. Soon."

"What're you going to use?" Mal wasn't arguing. He knew as well as Jayne, from the tightness growing worse in his chest, there was no option.

Jayne nodded to the piece of tubing he'd pulled from the hover. "Just hope it ain't anything important, or else Kaylee'll kill me." He moved forward, lifting Mal's head just a little so he could hold the bottle to his lips. "Take a good swig," he said. "'Cause this is gonna hurt."

--

Freya felt a stabbing in her chest, and her eyes widened. She stared at River. "What's he doing?"

"Saving Mal's life," River said quietly.

"Can you tell where they are?" Zoe asked, leaning in the small bridge.

"The hover doesn't have a beacon," Freya said, turning back to look out of the windows at the snow whirling around outside. This reminded her too much of the storm they'd flown through – or rather, crashed out of – when she was giving birth to Ethan. Now she was trying to find a needle in it while feeling everything that was going on. "Have to rectify that," she said grimly, holding her side.

"But you can feel them, right?"

"No. Well, yes, but it's just … I know they're down there somewhere." Freya pointed outside. "I just can't tell …" She began to pant.

"What is it?"

"Nothing."

"Pull back a little," River advised. "Otherwise I'll take over."

Freya wiped the sudden sweat from her forehead. "No. I'm shiny." She glanced at the young woman. "Can you get a fix on Jayne?"

River nodded slowly, unfocusing.

--

Outside snow was still falling heavily, and as Jayne looked up into the sky his heart sank. There was a hell of a lot more in those clouds, he realised, and maybe a lot worse, and if they didn't move soon, they could get trapped. Trouble was, moving Mal was not going to be easy, but staying put wasn't really an option either.

"Mal, we gotta go. Otherwise we don't have a prospect of making it."

Mal nodded. "I know. You just get me up on the hover. I'll take my chances."

"You trust me?"

"I let you dig into my chest, didn't I?" He'd almost passed out from the pain, and he was sure he screamed at one point, but at least his breathing was easier.

Jayne grinned. "Maybe I was feeling generous. 'Sides, don't think River'd be too pleased if I let anything happen to you, let alone Freya."

"Which one are you more afraid of, Jayne?"

"Oh, Frey for sure. Ain't no contest."

Mal smiled. "That's my girl." He moved slightly and groaned. "Best get me up, then."

"Mal …" Jayne began but stopped.

"It's okay. I know."

"'Kay." Jayne reached down, about to pick up his captain as gently as he could, when he heard a roaring sound above them. "What the hell …"

Mal grinned. "Sounds like the cavalry," he said, trying to sit up without thinking and gasping with the agony that shot through his chest.

"Cavalry?"

"One of Serenity's shuttles." Mal struggled for breath.

Jayne stared at him, then ran outside. Sure enough, above them was a familiar sight, and it made his heart leap to see it. "You're right, Mal," he whooped, not caring that snow was coating his goatee and hair, making him look like an old man. "It's the shuttle!"

"Frey," Mal whispered, about to fall into the darkness of unconsciousness when Jayne's voice pulled him back.

"Oh, Mal. You should be seeing this. Hell, I'm seeing it and I don't believe it."

"What?" Mal murmured.

Jayne was staring up at the shuttle, and the man being slowly winched down towards him. "If that don't beat all," he muttered.

Simon had his eyes tightly closed, feeling the wind of the storm competing with the shuttle's downdraft to batter him into submission. His mouth was active, though.

"How the _diyu_ did she manage to get me to agree to this?" he was saying, interspersing it with a prayer or two. "If she got into my mind and played me … well, just wait until she's in my infirmary again."

Jayne grinned as he reached up and grabbed the young man's leg, eliciting a yelp of fright.

"'S'only me, doc," he shouted. "Just relax."

Simon felt the big man's hands steadying him, then the blessed solidity of the rocks beneath his feet. He opened his eyes warily. Jayne was chuckling at him as he unclipped the line from the harness.

"Freya?" he asked knowingly.

"Freya," Simon nodded. "Mal?"

"In there."

Jayne led the way inside, and as his eyes adjusted Simon could Mal lying on the ground and hurried over. "We need a fire," he said, dropping to his knees and opening his medbag. Mal was shaking with the cold.

"Ain't got no wood to speak of."

"Then use the crates. We have to get him warm." Simon moved the blood-soaked shirt to one side, then saw Jayne's handiwork. "You did this?" he asked, looking up in surprise.

Jayne paused in his dismantling. "Yeah. Had to. He was drowning. Used some of that fancy whisky to sterilise much as I could."

"Good job." He opened an emergency dressing pack and pressed it into place, and didn't see the look on the big man's face.

Jayne was astonished. He could count on the thumbs of a one-handed man just how many times Simon had complimented him. "Uh, thanks." He went back to ripping the crates apart, shaking his head slightly.

"We need blankets," Simon added, filling two hypos, one with broad spectrum antibiotics, the other with a pain killer. He injected them both into Mal's neck. "Does River understand?"

_Yes_, came her voice in both their minds. _Coming now._

Jayne ran out into the snow and grabbed the bundle being lowered. He grinned up at the shuttle, knowing no-one would be able to see, but sure River was watching.

--

Freya wiped her nose on the back of her hand, staring out into the white, hoping no-one had noticed.

"He's going to be fine," River whispered, standing behind her in the doorway.

"Yeah, sure. I knew that."

The young psychic nodded, and gently withdrew her mind from the other woman's.

--

As Simon finished his examination and tidied up Jayne's incision, the big man had the fire going, and Mal's shivering was starting to abate.

"I have to get him back to Serenity," the young doctor said. "He's stable for the moment, but that bullet has to come out."

"What do you suggest?"

Simon sat back on his heels. "The shuttle?"

Jayne shook his head. "Honestly, doc, it's a miracle and Frey's flying that you got down in one piece without hitting the canyon walls. Going back up with an injured man …"

Simon swallowed. He had no idea it had been such a close thing. "I still need to operate. And I can't do that here."

"Then I'll drive him out in the mule. Crandall weren't telling exactly the whole truth. There's a place big enough for the shuttle to touch down back in the foothills."

"How long?"

"An hour. Maybe."

Simon pursed his lips. "An hour …"

"Doc, there really ain't any other choice in this." Jayne looked back out into the storm. "And it ain't gonna be easy in this."

"I have to stay with him." He nodded towards the hover. "You'll have to dump the goods here."

"With those boys about? May not be here when we get back."

"Tough shit."

Jayne's lips twitched. "You know, for once I think I gotta agree with you."

"Does River know where to go?"

_I do_.

"Sometimes I wish she'd stop doing that," Jayne complained. "Man's mind ain't his own no more."

"Now you know how I've felt for a very long time," Simon said, his tone utterly resigned.


	6. Chapter 6

Despite the blankets, by the time they'd rounded the last outcrop and could see the shuttle sitting a short distance away, just visible through the snow being blown into their faces, Mal's body temperature was getting dangerously low.

"Soon be home," Simon said, checking the saline bags.

"Sure," Mal whispered. "But then it'll be time to get up and feed the horses."

"What'd he say?" Jayne asked, craning his neck around.

"He's delirious."

"No, I ain't," Mal said. "Least, not that I know of."

"You just mentioned horses. We don't have any."

But Mal had slipped back into semi-consciousness.

"Hurry," Simon said.

Freya had the door open, and as Jayne pulled the hover to a stop she was out in a moment, ignoring the snow clogging her hair, her clothes, just clambering aboard. "Mal?" she said, looking at his almost blue face.

"We need to get him inside."

She nodded and helped them lift her husband down from the vehicle.

Then Jayne's foot slipped on a crust of ice, and he'd have fallen, taking Mal with him, except River was suddenly there, her arms around him, stopping him.

"Thanks, moonbrain," he said softly, and she smiled at him.

Zoe had the heater going full blast inside, and the air felt hot and dry as they manhandled Serenity's captain through the small doorway. Something jarred, and he cried out, Freya instantly at his side, holding his hand, but he hadn't really woken.

They laid him flat on the bench, and Simon checked his pulse yet again. It was thready, weakening. "He needs blood," he muttered. "That saline just isn't enough." He glanced at the others. "I don't have the equipment to filter it, so it has to be the same group."

Jayne sighed and shrugged out of his coat. "Go on then," he said, holding out his arm. "Might as well get his money's worth."

River beamed proudly at him.

--

Hank couldn't sit still. He was pacing the bridge like a caged animal, wanting … no, _needing_ to know what the _tyen shiao duh_ was happening.

"Heard anything?" Kaylee asked, scrambling up the steps to join him.

"Nothing. Not since they said Jayne and the doc were in sight." He was rubbing his hands together, just trying to feel some warmth.

"That's good, right? I mean, if anything'd gone wrong, they'd say. Right?"

Hank looked at the young mechanic, her face willing him to answer properly. "Sure, Kaylee. Sure."

She nodded. "Good. That's real good."

He stopped his pacing. "How much longer 'til we can get Serenity into the air?"

"Near an hour."

"Damn." He ground his teeth together. "I shoulda gone. Flown the shuttle. Then I'd'a known …"

"They'll be fine, Hank. And you had to be here in case I coulda worked a miracle." Her face fell. "I just can't do that today."

He looked at her. "Kaylee, it ain't your fault."

"Yes it is. I shouldn't've left the flux. I knew it was going when we were on Lazarus, but I …. I just wanted to have fun."

"Fun's okay," Hank said, reaching out and patting her arm.

"Not when it can get people killed."

She looked as guilt-ridden as he felt, and he pulled her into his arms. "No-one's gonna die, _xiao mei-mei_."

She could feel the roughness of his cotton shirt against her cheek, the consoling warmth of his body against hers. "Then why ain't they coming back?"

Hank looked down at the screen. "The storm's right on top of them. They try and take off in it, could be they don't make it back at all. She's only a small shuttle, Kaylee."

"Then they'd better wait."

--

It was quiet, the only sound being the silent prayers offered up to various deities and the wind whipping the snow against the hull. Freya hadn't moved from his side, holding Mal's hand, willing him to be okay.

"How long, doc?" Zoe asked quietly.

"Soon. I'd really rather have done this back on Serenity, but –"

"Beggars can't be choosers."

"No."

"If we'd got caught in turbulence –"

"No, I understand." Simon looked at Jayne. "Just a while longer."

"Hell, take all you want. Ain't like I don't got enough."

River slipped her hand into his, out of sight of her brother.

Everyone fell silent again, until …

"Zoe, what're you wearing?" Mal's voice, thin, not much more than a croak, but more than welcome nevertheless.

"Mal," Freya murmured, feeling as if she'd been holding her breath for a year.

"Hey," Mal said, smiling at her.

"Hey." She couldn't stop the tears rolling down her cheeks.

"What you crying for?"

"We thought you were dying," Jayne offered. "Least, they did. I kinda knew you were too ornery a son of a bitch to let a little thing like that kill ya."

"Ain't dead yet." Mal peered around the shuttle, his eyes finally alighting once more on his first mate. "Although I'm beginning to wonder."

"It's a top, sir." She taken her coat off because of the heat in the small shuttle, and her blouse seemed to burn in the dim light.

"Oh." He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, then opened them again. "'M I hallucinating?"

"Probably, sir."

"Oh. Good." He smiled, then seemed to realise that Jayne was attached to him by a thin tube. "Is that what I think it is?"

"Just saving your life, Mal," the big man said. "Kinda making it a habit today."

"You lost a lot of blood," Simon explained, clamping off the tubing and removing the needle from Mal's arm. "Jayne's the only one of your type here."

"You mean I got his blood running through my veins?"

"Sure have," Jayne smirked.

Mal looked at Freya. "I start acting like him, you'll shoot me, won't you?"

She laughed, wiping her face.

Zoe glanced outside. "Storm's easing," she said. "Looks like we'll be able to take off soon."

"Good," Mal said. "Still got a delivery to make."

"Easier said than done, sir."

"What? Why?" He shifted slightly, then sucked a breath in as pain radiated through him.

"Lie still," Simon ordered, preparing another hypo. "You're not out of the woods yet. I've still got to remove the bullet."

"Mal, please," Freya implored him, feeling him gripping her hand tightly.

"Hold on there, doctor," Mal said firmly, seeing the young man leaning forward, ready to inject him. "Just why can't we complete on the deal?"

"Because the storm dumped a load of snow down those canyons," Freya explained.

"Storm?" His forehead crinkled.

"And there's no way anyone's going to get to that stuff before a thaw."

"Get to?" Mal tried to sit up, then bit back a cry.

"Simon, dope him," Freya ordered.

"No, look, you don't get to –"

Simon injected him in the arm. "You think I want to argue with her?" he asked, wiping the needle site with a sterile swab.

"Dammit, Frey, we got a job to do." Mal was angry now.

"Shut up, Mal." She leaned over and kissed his lips. "Just shut up and let us deal with it."

"Listen to your wife, sir," Zoe advised. "Always best in the long run."

"Mutiny, that's what this is," Mal glowered, tasting the saltiness of his wife's tears on his tongue.

"Then you can court-martial us later."

Simon patted his shoulder. "Relax, Mal. That'll kick in soon, and when you wake up this will all seem like a bad dream."

"Bad dream was Jayne cutting into my chest with one of his …" Mal's voice trailed off and he relaxed back onto the bench.

"Good," Jayne said. "He was starting to get really annoying."

Freya stood up, her eyes on her husband's face. "He's going to be all right, isn't he?" she said.

"I think he'll be fine," Simon assured her.

"Then I'd better get us home. Zoe's right, the storm's lifting."

"What about the hover?"

"Gotta dig it out first," Jayne said. "Won't take too long, but you don't wait. I'll drive it back."

"And the goods?" Zoe asked. "Mal was right: we had a contract."

"And Crandall didn't warn us about them bandits." Jayne waved a hand. "That stuff of his'll be fine. Ain't no way anyone's gonna be able to get to it 'fore his own mule's fixed." He stood up and grabbed his heavy jacket.

"It's going to be a lonely ride back," River said, strapping her boots tighter.

"Don't mind being on my own."

"You won't be." She stood up, taking the coat Freya was holding out, and smiling at the older woman. Of course she knew.

"_Mei-mei_, what are you talking about?" Simon asked.

"We can talk." River smiled at her brother, then turned it on Jayne, where it warmed him more than the heat inside the shuttle.

"Well, guess company might be good," he admitted gruffly.

"And if you're driving you can't have wandering hands."

Simon's shocked face was a pure picture.

--

Hank watched out of the bridge window as a small dust cloud resolved into a hover with three men on board a distance away. He reached up and took down the com. "Zoe, he's here."

"Who?" Mal asked, trying to get up off the medbed and sucking in a sharp breath.

"You move and I'll sedate you again," Simon warned, and Freya pushed her husband back onto the pillow.

"And I'll help him," she said softly.

"If you weren't my wife …"

"What?" she asked, her lips lifting.

He just glared at her then turned his attention to Zoe. "Well? Who's here?"

"Crandall," Zoe explained. "When we didn't deliver, it was only a matter of time before he showed. Frankly I'm surprised it took him this long."

"That why you're wearing your gun?"

"It is."

"Then I'd better –" Mal was interrupted.

"No, you don't. We can handle this," Freya said firmly.

"I was right. This is mutiny," Mal complained.

"Then I'll get Hank to come in and play pirates with you," Zoe said, heading out into the common area.

"Pirates?" Mal glanced at Simon. "You give me too much of the good stuff?"

"No. I save that for River."

"Can't help thinking, as captain, I should be getting that." He shook his head then winced.

"Are you in pain?" Simon immediately asked.

"I got shot, doc." Mal sighed. "And Jayne operated on me without a medical licence. Can we get him struck off?"

"We'll see about it," Freya said, walking to the door. "In the meantime, you rest."

"And if I said no?"

Freya smiled at him. "Simon, I think he needs some of the good stuff."

Zoe crossed the cargo bay and squinted into the daylight. Crandall's hover was coming to a rest. "You want to deal with this?" she asked.

Freya stepped close behind her. "Nope. Why should I?"

"You're the captain's wife."

"And you're his second-in-command. That makes you boss while he's lying on his back." She added quickly, "In the infirmary, I mean."

Zoe smiled. "I will remind you of that one day." She settled her gun more comfortably, making a mental note to see if Jayne could extend the leather a bit, then strode out into the sun.

"Where's Captain Reynolds?" Crandall demanded, jumping to the ground and marching towards her. His face was red with anger.

"He's indisposed," Zoe said, resting her thumbs lightly in her belt. "I'm first mate."

"Indisposed? What the hell does that mean?" Crandall waved it away. "Well, wherever he is, I hope it ain't with my goods. I just got word you didn't make the delivery."

"We tried to, but ran into a little local colour."

"What? What colour? And where's my stuff?" Crandall really wasn't in the mood to play games.

"Safe. At least until the snow melts."

The man bristled visibly, and looked past her into the darkness of Serenity. "I demand to see Captain Reynolds. Maybe then I'll get a straight answer." He went to walk past this dark beauty, but she put her hand, very lightly, on his chest.

"Like I said, he's indisposed."

Another woman walked slowly down the ramp, just the trace of a limp in her step. Tall, short brown hair, she wasn't wearing a gun. No threat then. Except …

"Your goods are safe, Mr Crandall," she said, her voice pleasant, low. "We can give you the co-ordinates."

"And you are?"

"Freya Reynolds." She smiled. "As soon as the snow clears from the canyons, you can pick them up. Your own vehicle should be fixed by then."

"You just dumped them?" Crandall was almost beside himself with rage.

"No, Mr Crandall. But our people ran into a little trouble. Ambushed, you might say. One of them was hurt."

"Your husband?" When Freya nodded, Crandall felt his anger abate a little. "Sorry to hear that. But why'd you leave my goods?"

"To save his life."

"And … he's going to be okay?"

"He's going to be fine."

Zoe stirred. "We tried to make delivery, Mr Crandall. This time, it just wasn't meant to happen."

He looked from one woman to the other, trying to decide who was the more dangerous. _Both of them_, came the thought unbidden to his mind, and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. "Well, I suppose you did try." Now, if he could get his money back …

"And I'm sure you're not going to insist on a refund," Mrs Reynolds said, smiling at him. "After all, it wasn't our fault your mountains seem to be a haven for all sorts of ne'er-do-wells."

Crandall mentally backed up but physically shrugged. "Sounds like Kincaid and his crew. They've been nothing but trouble since …" He perked up. "I don't suppose you'd care to take on the job of clearing –"

Freya shook her head and held out a memory wafer. "Here are the co-ordinates, Mr Crandall. I'm afraid one of the cases of whisky was damaged in the ambush, but I think you'll find everything else is present and accounted for."

Crandall found himself nodding as he tucked the wafer into his pocket. "Well, I suppose … that's okay."

"You'd better get going," Zoe said. "I'm sure you've got more important things to do that stand around gossiping with a couple of women."

His feet began to move of their own accord back towards his hover. "Yes, of course. People to see, you know. Business."

Freya smiled at him. "Bear us in mind if you have any other little jobs you want doing," she called as he climbed aboard his vehicle and tapped his driver on the shoulder.

As they sped off, Zoe asked, "Will he? Bear us in mind?"

"No," Freya admitted.

"You brainwashed him?"

The other woman laughed. "No. Just suggested it'd be better not to deal with us again."

"The captain ain't gonna be pleased if we lost a customer."

"He won't mind losing this one." Freya gazed after the rapidly vanishing hover. "I get the feeling Crandall isn't exactly trustworthy."

"Can you actually say that of anyone we deal with?"

Freya laughed. "You know, now you come to mention it …"

"Still, I'd like to be gone from here soon as we can." Zoe exhaled thoughtfully. "Got that job on Greenleaf to get to."

"Busy."

"For a change."

"Well, looks like we can go whenever you want." Freya nodded towards the mountains, and the hovermule covering the ground fast towards them.

"Missed us?" Jayne grinned as he brought the vehicle to an easy stop before turning to reverse into the bay.

"Have you been someplace?"

"Little bit of sight-seeing," he called as he parked.

River jumped down and walked towards the two women. "That was fun," she said. "I would have brought back snowcones, but they melted."

Zoe shivered a little. "Think we've had enough snow for a while." She walked inside. "Get her stowed, Jayne," she called, heading for the bridge. "We'll be leaving."

River took one last look at the landscape. "How's Mal?" she asked.

"He's going to be fine. He's already back to being his normal annoying self." The soft, loving look on her face took all the sting out of her words.

"No problems?"

"Simon removed the bullet and repaired the damage. In fact, he was full of praise for Jayne's medical skills."

River smiled. "There are depths to Jayne people don't know about."

"And you're in charge of deep mining operations?"

"I don't need to," the young woman said.

"No. Guess you don't." Freya grinned and put her arm around River, and they walked back into Serenity.


	7. Epilogue

Zoe pulled the silky top off over her head, her curls falling voluptuously around her shoulders. She let the fabric run through her fingers before placing it carefully in the drawer and looking at herself in the mirror. With just the tips of her fingers she touched the swelling at her waist.

"Hi," she whispered. "Just thought I should let you know we're all safe again. In case you were worried."

"Have you begun talking to yourself now?" Hank asked, standing by the ladder, somewhat wary of coming too far into the room. "Is this just another thing I should expect of a pregnant woman?"

She was about to snap at him, to get rid of the uncomfortable feeling of having been observed being … motherly … but decided instead just to say, "Oddly enough, no."

"So you're talking to our son?"

"Mmn." She glanced down, and his eyes followed to the top of her pants, one of the extenders he'd made holding the front closed.

"Hey, they work," he said, pleased as all get out.

"Only need the smallest at the moment. But I guess the rest'll come in handy soon." She stroked the dark skin of her belly.

Hank felt his breath catch in his chest at the sheer physicality of the woman standing in front of him. "Guess they will," he said throatily.

"Still have to thank Inara for the clothes."

"She'd like that. You can wave her. Or wait till we … you know … drop by." Hank cleared his throat. "You … looked nice."

She lifted her eyes to gaze at him. "Nice."

"Well, actually, beautiful. Blooming, even. Glorious. But I thought 'nice' might be safer."

"Safer?"

"After our argument before."

"Did we argue?"

"Didn't we?"

"There might have been words," she conceded.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? Worrying about me?"

"For getting all … manly about it."

Her lips twitched. "That what you call it?"

"Don't, Zo. Don't make fun of me. Not over this."

She stared at him, the seriousness in his eyes, then crossed the room, taking his face in her hands and kissing him. His lips parted and their tongues touched.

"I'm not making fun, Hank. I promise." She released him and took his hand, leading him to the bed. "Sit," she said, patting the blanket.

"Is this gonna be what Frey calls 'one of those conversations'?"

"Probably."

Hank lowered himself next to her. "Okay. I'm ready."

Zoe smiled, but didn't speak for a moment. Then she gathered herself. "I'm not making fun, Hank, because I know how you feel. Wash used to worry. 'Bout me and the Captain."

"You and Mal?" Hank was surprised. "Why? Were you ever … you know." He couldn't say it.

"No, we were never … you know." She gazed at him. "And I don't think Wash ever really thought we were. But …" She leaned against him. "Wash was always concerned that I'd follow Mal into hell."

"And did you?"

"Sometimes. There were days, weeks during the war when I wouldn't have been surprised to see the devil himself standing over us. But we got through. We always got through."

"I don't understand."

She put her arm through his, entwining their fingers together. "You know about when Wash and Mal got took by Niska."

He shuddered involuntarily. "Yeah. Heard about that."

"Well, if Wash hadn't been being stupid, it would've been me with Mal. Not him."

He jerked around to stare at her. "You?"

"Me." She stared into the past. "We'd had a fight, about how Mal is always the captain. Wash said I blindly followed his orders, no matter what."

"How'd that make it him and not you getting … hurt?"

"Does it matter?"

"No, I suppose not."

"So Niska's … doing what he did, and Wash said he was about to give up, only Mal wouldn't let him. Kept him going. Stopped him from dying." Zoe could still hear her husband. _He wouldn't break, Zoe. And he kept me from... I wouldn't have made it._

Hank swallowed. "I didn't know."

"Wash understood after that. He still didn't like it much, but he understood. Mal kept me going during the war, and he did the same for Wash later. I trust him with my life, Hank."

"Mal says it was you got him through Serenity Valley."

"We got each other through. Hell and high water, Hank. The bad times and the worse. And with that kind of history …"

The man next to her, with his scruffy brown hair and adorable grey eyes, nodded. "I understand."

"Do you?" She put her hand on his cheek. "We're there for each other. No matter what. Always will be. Mal has Freya, I have you … but there'll always be something special between us. Just … not sexual."

"I know," Hank whispered.

Zoe sighed. "It doesn't help, does it?"

"No, it does."

"But?"

"But couldn't you just think before you follow? You know? Just once in a while? 'Specially now you're pregnant?"

"I can only say I'll try."

"Guess that's gonna have to do." He lifted his arm and put it around her, pulling her against him. With his other hand he caressed her belly, feeling his son inside her.

"You know I'm gonna be hell to live with until the baby's born, don't you?" Zoe said softly. "Maybe you should go and stay in one of the shuttles, after all."

"And miss all the excitement?" Hank shook his head. "No way."

"What about all the arguing?"

"Were we arguing?"

"We will," Zoe promised. "When my ankles swell, and I can't reach my feet, or even see them, you'll wish you took that job with Philipson."

"Well, I've already been dealing with the morning sickness."

"It _will_ get worse."

"You know," he said sincerely, after a moment's thought, "I really don't mind."

--

Simon had tidied up the infirmary, putting away all the tools of his trade, back where they belonged, and now he felt ready for his bed. Mal had been his usual self and insisted on going back to his own bunk, so as Simon took a last look around, it was an empty space. Lonely. He shivered slightly and switched off the lights, closing the door behind him. Glancing towards his room, where Kaylee was waiting, he headed instead for the galley, and a last coffee. Or maybe something a little stronger, just to get that image of being winched down into the storm out of his head.

Someone else seemed to have had the same idea.

"Just makin' up for the blood I gave up." Jayne grinned and swigged from his mug, his chair tilted back on two legs.

"That isn't really the best way," Simon pointed out.

"Nope, maybe not. But it's fun." He lifted the bottle. "You want some?"

For a moment neither man moved, then Simon nodded slowly. "Sure. Why not? But just a single."

"Too fancy for me," Jayne said, watching him as the young man picked up one of the cups, absently running his fingers around the inside. "Places I go, they don't talk about singles or nothing. Just a slug."

"Then a small slug." Simon sat down and held out his mug.

"'Kay." Jayne poured.

"Thanks." Simon stared at the amount of alcohol, then shrugged. It probably wouldn't hurt, not this once. And he was accustomed to sake …

"It ain't like the stuff you're used to," Jayne warned. "I don't bother spending good coin on something that's only meant to get you outta your skull."

"No, I see what you mean," Simon wheezed, having taken a small sip.

Jayne grinned evilly. "Drink up. Put hairs on your chest."

"Thanks, but I don't want any." He waited for feeling to come back to his throat.

"Yeah. Heard tell Kaylee likes you all lily-white and pasty."

Simon was about to make a snarky remark, but suddenly felt too tired to play. Instead he looked at the big man. "What you did …" he began diffidently. "Saving Mal's life like that, with the tube … how did you know?"

Jayne shrugged. "My kinda business, things happen. People get shot and die. First time I saw that particular death I was just a kid. Younger'n River even. Man took a while, but it weren't pretty. He got to begging me to put him outta his misery by the end, only he couldn't breathe enough to talk."

"What happened?"

"He died." Jayne didn't elaborate. "Next time was a few years later, and we had someone around who'd got some medical-type training. Asking him to show me, so's I didn't have to go through that again."

"Was he your friend? The man who died."

"He … kept me alive, first coupla years I was out in the 'verse. I was so green you coulda fed cows off me. But he taught me a lot."

"Seems like we all had our mentors."

"Only way to stay alive, doc."

Simon found himself nodding. "So you learned how to do a … to release the air."

Jayne knew he'd been about to drop into medical-speak, but didn't take umbrage. "Yeah. Needed it maybe twice since, and one of those was on my own self. Damn but that was hard. I yelled like a girl on her first time."

Simon grimaced at his turn of phrase, then realised the big man was doing it deliberately. He took another sip of alcohol. "I'm sure you deserved it."

"Reckon maybe I did. Reckon maybe I deserved most of the scars I got. Including the one you put there."

Simon jerked, spilling some of the whisky down his shirt. "The … the one I …" He wiped ineffectually at the stain.

"Maybe I'd'a taken advantage once. When she first came on board. Before I got to … well, 'fore I saw what she did to a room full of Reavers. Just had my way and had done with it, no regrets. Only …" He dropped his head, almost embarrassed at what he was about to say. "She's changed me. Don't know how, nor why, but … it's scary, doc."

Simon had never seen the mercenary so vulnerable, not even when he was lying on the table being operated on. "My sister is … special," he finally said.

Jayne lifted his head and grinned. "Got that right."

"So … what? You're all warm and fuzzy now?"

"Nope. Still the same bastard I always was. Still kill you if you look at me funny. 'Cept maybe now I'll think about it first, and repent – as the Shepherd used to say – at my leisure."

"Repent. I didn't think you knew the meaning of the word."

"I know a lot more'n most give me credit for. That's why I'm still alive, doc."

"Just don't hurt her."

It was the closest Simon was ever going to come to giving his permission, but Jayne understood. "I won't."

The young doctor pushed the mug away. He'd drunk maybe a sixth of what Jayne had poured, but he knew that was enough. Enough to drive the horrors away and keep him able to deal with Mal if need be.

As if he'd read the man's mind, Jayne asked, "Where's the Cap?"

"I let him go back to his bunk. Freya's looking after him."

"Think that's a good idea? You know what they're gonna be getting up to, soon as your back's turned."

"He tears it open, he stitches it back up himself."

Jayne guffawed. "Think that's gonna stop 'em?"

Simon stood up. "I'm going to bed."

"Think I might work out a while. Given as I ain't all that sleepy." Jayne got to his feet nonetheless and put his bottle away in the cupboard, out of reach of prying, two year old fingers. He followed the younger man out of the galley. "So what was that thing I did? The proper name for it," he asked as they descended the stairs toward the lower crew quarters.

"A tube thoracostomy. To relieve a pneumothorax."

"Tho-ra-cost-om-y." Jayne spread the word out, tasting it. "Fancy word for what I did."

"You saved Mal's life, Jayne. I don't think he cares what anyone calls it."

"Nope, guess he don't. Like my Callahan fullbore autolock, customized trigger and double cartridge thorough-gauge. Don't matter everyone calls her Vera, she still shoots good."

There was a pause.

"Right." Simon nodded slowly. "Goodnight, Jayne."

"'Night." Jayne continued on towards the cargo bay, hearing Simon's door open, then Kaylee's voice.

"Where've you … Simon, you smell like Jayne!" she said accusingly. "You shower. Now."

The big man grinned. _Wonder how she's gonna explain she knows what I smell like_, he thought idly as he headed for his weights.


End file.
